Sinner's Breath
by Katsuro.Greywing
Summary: Shinonome-sensei has too much to drink and Soubi takes her home. Rated for lemon in Chapter 2.
1. I See Him Almost Every Day

My first submission... Thanks for reading and reviewing!

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_I never should have let myself get dragged into this,_ Soubi thought angrily as Kio stood and waved for the bartender again over the din of the crowded bar, the glasses starting to line up in front of them. _Four rounds gone and he's just getting warmed up. I'll be carrying him home tonight._ The semester was quickly grinding to a halt, and Kio had insisted that they celebrate. Soubi's paintings had arrived in the university's main gallery this morning, and they had spent the better part of the day meticulously arranging the six featured artists' works so that each one had the best possible presentation, sculptures and ceramics carefully positioned on matte white pedestals, stark black and white charcoal sketches, exquisitely detailed intaglio prints, massive tapestries sewn in red and gold (the unusual contribution of a fifth-year fibers student), and through it all the quiet beauty of Soubi's watercolor butterflies. _Oh, the hell with it._ Soubi reached out a pale hand for his refilled glass.

At the far end of the bar, a mousy brown tousle of hair and fur rested on the waxy mahogany surface, face hidden in the crook of her slender arm, buried behind a glass wall of her own. _It's Saturday night, I should be having fun._ Hitomi's friends had invited her out, sensing her slow withdrawal from social behavior, and they had bought her the first two rounds, trying to coax the gentle prude out of her shell. At first it had worked, she laughed and twittered at her companions' stories as the alcohol took effect, troubles forgotten and just enjoying herself. But then the two blond men had arrived. Her drinking increased and mood became increasingly sullen, her attention straying from the conversation, her eyes perpetually drawn to the taller and younger of the two men. When her friends decided to leave and go to a movie, they were almost relieved when she said she wanted to stay behind, insisting she would be fine walking herself home.

Soubi set his half-drained pint gently in the center of the cardboard coaster, the corner of his lip just hinting at a bemused smile, finding it ironic that the proprietor would bother with coasters when the wooden bar was already so thickly coated in sticky grime, evidence of years of booze and smoke tar. Soubi shook a cigarette from his slightly crumpled pack, lifting it to his lips, the texture and taste of the paper so familiar, then bowed his head to light it, habit cupping his long-fingered hand around the trembling flame. He breathed in, the sweet flavor flowing over his tongue, lungs filling with the acrid smoke. He closed his eyes as he lowered the lighter, the tiny click as he released the trigger inaudible over the noise of the crowd, and dropped it onto the bar. He listened with one ear to Kio's animated conversation with the cute girl beside him, the plans for his art and his gallery; _I've heard it all before. _He leaned his head back slightly, his long silky hair falling away from his shoulders, and the smoke curling from between his parted lips as he looked up at the shadowy ceiling, vision slightly impaired even with his glasses and the alcohol only serving to make it worse.

Hitomi drew herself to her feet, screwing up her courage. _Just go talk to him, that's what public places are for – meeting people and being social. _Her small hands formed tiny fists on the bar, supporting her as she swayed ominously, her impaired sense of balance causing the room to swim sickeningly. _I see him almost every day, I should at least be able to say 'hi.' I wait for him just as Ritsuka does, watching him through the window, that beautiful, perfect form slumped casually against the schoolyard's gate, those disgusting cigarettes always dangling from his perfect fingers. He even makes smoking seem sensual and desirable. I see him almost every day... but I still can't just talk to him? I'm so pathetic... _Hitomi pushed herself back from the bar, tripping over her own feet as she made her way past the crowd, unsure whether she was headed for him or headed for the door.

As she drew closer, Soubi's companion reached an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close and whispering something in his ear. Hitomi stood for a moment, feeling jealousy well up inside of her, wishing desperately that she could be so close to him. Soubi tensed as Kio's lips brushed his cheek with a promise that they would catch up later, turning his cold blue stare to his smiling friend and silently granting him permission to go. Kio snatched up the hand of the bunny beside him and they staggered giggling out the door, but Soubi merely lifted his glass, showing no emotion. Hitomi's confusion and frustration tripled, desperately questioning the nature of the two men's relationship and simultaneously realizing how little she knew about the man she had fallen for so completely. She shook her head and tears spattered against the inside of her glasses; she rushed outside, stumbling as she reached the curb.

Soubi was oblivious, or maybe he just didn't care. He sat in silence, finishing his drink and cigarette in that slow, languorous fashion he had perfected spending so much time waiting for orders. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket to check the time, finding it suddenly later than he expected, and noticing with a pang of disappointment that he had no messages or missed calls. _Ritsuka... _He replaced the phone, scooping his lighter and pack of cigarettes into his jacket pocket, paid his tab, and made his own way out the door.

He shivered slightly as the cool night enveloped him, ears adjusting to the absence of noise. The soft haze dulling the yellow light of the street lamp told him that he had had too much to drink after all, that he should have eaten something between lunch and now. His feet dragged heavily across the concrete, but his back remained rigid, keeping him upright even though his greatest desire was to fall asleep. He walked slowly past the parked cars, wondering idly how Kio had gotten on with his date and hoping he might be a bit less clingy tomorrow, and then he heard a soft shuddering sigh behind him. Soubi turned to see Hitomi lying on the curb, her long skirt hitched up around her knees, face hidden under her mop of brown hair punctuated by swept-back cat ears. Soubi rushed to her side, his eyes quickly assessing the situation, and seeing no sign of trauma, lifted her into his arms.

"Home... can't... gonna... sick..." Hitomi muttered into the fabric of his coat, her eyes still closed.

"You'll be alright, Shinonome-san," Soubi said softly as he started walking.


	2. People Don't Keep Their Ears Forever

Hitomi woke to find herself lying on a soft futon, fully clothed and covered with warm blankets. It was dark except for a dim orange glow coming from a slightly open door; the room smelled of old smoke and fresh paint and something else... something earthy and surprisingly pleasant. _Where am I? _Her hand found her glasses beside the futon and she put them on.A dark silhouette passed through the lit room on the other side of the door, a slim figure with one towel around his waist and another rubbing through his hair. Hitomi realized that it was the silence that had awoken her, the sound of the shower had stopped and now all she could hear were soft footsteps on tile. _Whoever he is, he can't be too bad; he didn't take advantage of me._

She rose, swaying as she tried to regain her sense of equilibrium, and half-walked, half-stumbled toward the bathroom. Her hand grasped the door frame and her breath caught in her throat as her eyes lifted from the floor, her gaze drawn to the myriad of white scars across the bare skin of her benefactor's back. He was standing before the sink's mirror, just finishing wrapping a length of white bandage around his neck, and she could see that there too, there were scars.

"A...Agatsuma-sama," she breathed, stepping toward him with hand outstretched, filled with a sudden desire to be close to him. Soubi turned to face her, his unshielded eyes burning into her own, his expression unreadable, but the intensity of his glare strong enough to drive her back against the wall.

"Are you so much in awe of me?" he asked coldly, hands drawing the towel from around his shoulders and hanging it over the bar on the wall beside her. Hitomi's hands folded timidly over her chest and she stared at her bare feet, the color rising to her cheeks the effect of more than one intoxication. "I told you not to fall in love with me, Shinonome-san."

"I can't help it," she muttered, embarrassed. Then, more strongly, "I _am_ in love with you, Soubi." With her head still bowed, her small hand reached out to grasp his forearm, her touch emboldened by alcohol, emotion overwhelming her. Soubi's muscles tightened under his pale skin, a look of disdain crossing his face. Hitomi shook her head, closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to well up again, and committed herself. "I want to be near you all the time, Soubi. I want to touch you in ways I've never wanted to touch anyone. I want you to touch me, and to look at me, and to love me, but I know you won't, you can't, because of whatever it is between you and Ritsuka." Her eyes opened and she met his gaze, for the first time equally. "I've seen you together. I've seen you kiss him, and I'm learning to live with it because you make him happy. Someone like Ritsuka needs to look forward to something, and as long as he keeps his ears, you haven't done anything wrong. But he won't keep his ears forever, will he?"

Soubi studied her face, the accusation and determination, the passion welling up inside of her so close to the surface, and he was surprised to find her so open about her suspicions and her emotions and her honest desire to have the best for her student. The soft line of her jaw had hardened, her posture straightened and chest lifted, the bare feet peeking out from under her dark skirt squarely planted on the cool tile. Soubi had never seen her look so strong, so... _sexy? I must still be drunk._ Before he could reply, Hitomi closed her eyes and looked away, her usually soft voice growing hoarse in anger.

"People don't keep their ears forever," she growled. _Soubi's going to take Ritsuka's ears someday, but I'll be damned if he doesn't take mine first. I don't mind if they're going to be together, but I'm going to get what I need too._ Her grip tightened around Soubi's forearm and she drew herself close to him, her other hand reaching up to entangle in the wet hair at the back of his neck. Rising on her tip-toes, she pressed her lips to his, tasting the cigarettes and beer still on his breath but not caring. Soubi wrenched his arm out of her grasp and pushed her away, his expression still immovable, but his cold eyes began to soften and his touch was gentle.

"I don't love you," he stated simply, more a warning than a refusal.

"I don't care," she replied, pushing past him. She lifted both hands to take off her glasses, folding them carefully and setting them on the wide counter of the sink. Her naked face turned to him again, cheeks still rosy from too much drink. "I don't want you to make love to me, Soubi. I just want you to fuck me."

Now it was Soubi's turn to close the distance between them, and he did so quickly and powerfully, like a hawk sweeping down to capture a mouse. His hands found her hip and her throat, pinning her close to him, pressing his marble body against her soft flesh. His mouth closed over her lips, swallowing her surprised outcry with his ardent and painful kiss. His thumb pressed into her throat as his tongue forced entrance between her teeth, and the smell of shampoo and sinner's breath filled her.

She wanted to fight, struggle to get away from the demon she had somehow released in that gorgeous man, but her body responded to him in the way she had always dreamt about. She pushed back against his kiss, meeting the pressure of his lips and opening her mouth to permit his tongue full access. Fire ignited under the bruising hand clutching her hip, and she crushed her pelvis against him, one foot lifting off the tile to permit her thighs to grip his leg.

Soubi's fingers sought the zipper of her skirt, deftly unfastening the hook-and-eye and jerking the tab past metal teeth, and a flutter of dark fabric fell to the floor, quickly followed by her lace undergarment. His strong hands found her slim waist and hoisted her effortlessly onto the counter, then slid up to grasp her blouse at the neckline. A quick jerk and this too fell to the floor with a sound of rending cloth. Hitomi's hands and legs reached around him together, pressing her nearly-naked body against him as if trying to constrict the life from him. The soft towel around his waist crushed against the subtle mound of her pubic bone, and she moaned against his kiss.

Soubi's hands again traversed her body, this time devouring her curves with his touch, feeling the roundness of her hip, the trim of her waist, the swell of her breasts through white satin. His mouth came free of hers, their tongues reluctantly relinquishing their impassioned contact, and Soubi pressed her shoulders back until they rested against the mirror. Hitomi caught her breath as her skin touched the cold glass, and she gasped as hot lips fell onto her collarbone. Her skin burned where he planted his searing kisses, and her back arched to permit his hands access to unhook the clasp of her bra. He leaned back as he drew the straps over her shoulders, taking a moment to admire her in her passion, her breath coming fast and her heartbeat faster, her rich brown eyes half-closed. Her hands fumbled at the towel around his waist, and it too dropped to the white tile.

"Are you sure you want it to be like this, Hitomi?" Soubi leaned close and whispered the words against her human ear, his hand reaching up to grasp the furry cat ear above it, tugging lightly to emphasize his question. "If I go farther, it won't be kind."

"You're never kind to me, Soubi," she whispered back, smoothing his blond hair where his ears must have been once. She closed her eyes and turned her face until her cheek pressed against the cool surface of the mirror, the flush of intoxication far less intense than the color of desire on her skin. "Just take them."

His hand slid between her legs then and she trembled, his long ivory fingers brushing past her soft hair and parting her lips, finding her moist and inviting. His hips pushed forward, aligning the tip of his sex with her virgin opening. He held her still by the ear and buried his face in the silken hair flowing over her neck, letting out a soft moan as he forced his way into her. She gasped beneath him but made no move to stop him, her fingernails digging into the scar tissue of his shoulders. He paused for half a moment, giving her tense muscles a chance to relax before beginning to slide back and forth, trusting the numbing effects of the alcohol to deaden her pain.

It wasn't long before she had loosened enough to permit him full strokes, but still she gasped and moaned with each thrust, the heat flooding her body even as she pressed against cool glass and ceramic. His hand released her ear and traveled down her smooth back, coming to rest upon her hip where he could hold her against his thrusts, but permitting her to slide far enough away from him that his thigh still met the corner of the countertop before his stroke was complete. He lifted his face to look down at her, but caught a glimpse instead of himself in the looking glass, his wet hair tousled and knotted over his shoulders and skin mottled with blush, the intense flash of his own blue eyes far too primal. In disgust, his eyes snapped closed, and he focused again on the sensation, the tight grip of her textured sheath on his pulsing organ, and quickly he was pulling out to explode against the soft skin of her thigh.

He lay over her panting for several minutes, until finally she shifted beneath him, her breasts sliding warm and slick across his chest. Her hands caressed the muscles of his back as he stepped away, reaching for a washcloth and running the tap over it until it was warm. His touch was gentle, almost tender, as he cleaned his sticky substance from her skin and then from his own. He permitted her another chaste kiss as he lifted her down from the sink. Chocolate eyes searched cerulean, finding the fire gone, replaced with... _sadness?_

_I love you!_ she wanted to scream, _Why can't you just love me back?!_ but something stopped her. Maybe it was the ice in his eyes, or the tightness still in her belly, or the tingle where the blood had already stopped flowing into her ears. Maybe it was the slump of his shoulders as he disappeared into the hall to bring her back a clean towel for her shower. Maybe it was the click of his lighter and the smell of smoke as he drew the cigarette from his lips, or maybe it was his hopeful glance at the cell phone lying on the pile of clothes in the corner. She took the towel he held out to her, her soft-spoken "thank you" layered with meaning.

Soubi didn't speak, just closed his eyes and turned away, disappearing down the darkened hallway.


End file.
